


i don't want to break everything you made, i just want to take back everything you took

by kwritten



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Family Issues, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Mother-Daughter Relationship, POV Multiple, Parenthood, Slow Burn, Women Being Awesome, background nora/miles, background rachel/jeremy, background rachel/miles, charlie grew up in philly, charlie in the republic, charlie running everything, connor being expendable, implied charlie/jason past, jeremy being an adorable dork, miles always knew he was charlie's dad, not!crazy bass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 18:47:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5016046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwritten/pseuds/kwritten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>EDITED: claim 'if you're going to ask someone to save the world, you'd better make sure they like it the way it is' for Rachel/Charlie</p><p>When Miles sends for Rachel after the Blackout, he also requests that his daughter accompany her. In order to keep Charlie away from Bass, per Rachel's request, Miles inadvertently raises his daughter to be the perfect successor to the Republic. </p><p> </p><p>  <i>“Brother, half of Philly is head over heels in love with that girl. I think half my commanding officers would lay down their guns for her if she so much as smiled in their direction. I don’t know if I should be pissed at you for keeping her from me or thanking you.”</i><br/>“Thank me?”<br/>Bass raised his glass in salute, “You raised her with my men and now they are loyal to her. Keeping her away from me, you raised her to take over the Republic when we’re ready. Or if we aren’t and there isn’t another choice.”<br/>Miles looked into the fire, “Fuck.”<br/>"Rachel's gonna kill you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	i don't want to break everything you made, i just want to take back everything you took

**Author's Note:**

> hahaha this was supposed to be a silly one-off, possibly part of the nano'verse - but this happened instead. dedicated to all the people that want 'Charlie growing up in the Republic' stories

_”Name’s Jeremy, ma’am. General Matheson himself sent me. Said I had a trustworthy face.”_

_Rachel smiled and handed over a cup of tea. Real_ Lipton _tea, even if he didn’t see the label she surreptitiously hid in her pocket before handing him the cup, he could taste it. It was like stepping back in time, sitting in a charming kitchen with a beautiful woman handing him a cup of_ real _tea, he could have almost forgotten that he was wearing a uniform and was under direct orders from the President of the Monroe Republic. Almost._

_“And the five armed men you have waiting for you a mile out?” she said it almost as if it were a joke and not an accusation, she smiled like she was charming and not summing him up._

_Monroe was probably right. This was probably a job for Neville and not for him._

_Jeremy tried not to blush. “President Monroe … was worried for your safety.”_

_“I understand completely Jeremy,” she sipped her tea and looked out at the window at the two children playing in the gated yard. “I will come, I don’t have a choice do I?”_

_“No ma’am. Sorry ma’am,” and damnit he really was sorry._

_“This goes my way. I leave on my own terms. I won’t have your men escorting me out. I don’t want to worry my children or this community, do you understand?”_

_Jeremy looked at her for a minute, swallowing several times before finally choking out, “Ma’am? I agree completely. Except that…” he slid a slip of paper across the table at her. “General Matheson had an additional request.”_

_Rachel looked down at the slip of paper as though it were a bomb._

_“You already know what it says.” He was going to request a simpler job. A desk job. Something that didn’t have him blackmailing soccer moms in the suburbs. Leave that shit to someone else._

_Her eyes glistened with tears, “Please no. Please don’t ask me this.”_

_Jeremy stood, “I’m sorry ma’am.” He looked down at her and softened his tone, “Truly I am sorry, but isn’t this better?”_

_Rachel raised her chin defiantly, “I will meet you at the crossroads a mile outside of town to the East just after dawn tomorrow. Please allow me that time to … make arrangements.”_

_Jeremy bowed slightly, she was the sister-in-law to the General after all, “If you aren’t there by noon, I have orders that I would prefer not to have to carry out.”_

_Rachel stood, brushing her hands on the front of her jeans absently, “I understand Jeremy.”_

_“Baker, ma’am,” he cautioned her. “Tomorrow… Baker.”_

_She nodded an assent and he bowed again, for lack of anything better to do, for lack of any words at all. He smiled wanly at the man waiting in the front yard with the two small children and ducked out of the main gate of the small community before anyone could remark upon his presence._

_Inside the house, Rachel reached with trembling fingers to pick up the slip of paper he had left behind on the table._

_****_

**bring my daughter with you ~m**

“President Monroe,” the guard at the door called out with a booming voice and Rachel smirked when it cracked a little in the process, but didn’t rise from her seat.

“Glad to see you are keeping busy, Rachel,” Bass said with his usual charm as he came up behind her and bent over to kiss her on the cheek before swinging around to sit in the armchair facing her. 

Rachel smiled softly as she set another card down on the table from the stack in her hand, “What can I do for you today, Mr. President?”

The girl Miles had installed in the kitchen came forward with a tray of iced tea, which Bass took with a smile, but Rachel declined. The president leaned over the small table at Rachel’s elbow and moved a few cards around with a smirk, “Solitaire was never your strongest suit, Rachel. Can’t you get Neville’s wife to play bridge with you or something?”

Rachel made a face, “I prefer my solitude to the company of your lackeys’ dimwitted wives.”

Bass took a sip of his tea and tsked at her, “Now, now Rachel. You and I both know that Julia could give you a run for your money. That woman is almost as scary as you claim to be.” He raised his eyebrows at her like he was giving a compliment. 

Rachel smiled and said nothing, her focus on the game at hand. 

“Once a world renowned scientist, now just a housewife that plays Solitaire to pass the time. Would you like me to send some more books over?” He looked up at the packed shelves that lined the walls of her sitting room from floor to ceiling. “It’s getting a little Disney in here, but it wouldn’t do for you to get bored.”

“How can I possibly be bored, Mr. President—”

“Bass, please Rachel. Surely such formalities are not required between two old friends like you and I,” he grinned wickedly as if he wanted her to comply, as if they were just two old friends sitting down to drink iced tea and complain about the weather. 

Rachel shook her head, maybe he had actually deluded himself into thinking that he was a Southern Gentleman of old. Did that make her Scarlet or Melanie? Or Sue-Ellen, the disgraced sister, left waiting and rotting on a parcel of land she never wanted with a husband she couldn’t love and never loved her. 

A knock on the door saved her, followed by the sharp click of boots on the hardwood floor. Bass raised his eyebrows at Rachel over the glass of tea in his hands, the visitor didn’t warrant an introduction from the guard situated at the door for that purpose, which meant that whomever it was visited the house often enough to be expected. 

“Rachel, I—” Jeremy stopped in his tracks a foot away from Rachel and snapped to attention, inclining his head in respect to Bass. “Mr. President, I’m surprised to see you here sir.”

“What brings you here today, Jeremy?” Bass smiled, eyeing the wrapped package in Jeremy’s hands with deadly intent. 

Jeremy looked down at his hands and then back up in surprise, “I… I heard that Charlie was returning today. I thought I would come welcome her back.”

“And bring a _gift_ ,” Bass’ voice dripped with mock surprise. “And they say chivalry is not dead. Please, Jeremy, sit with us and wait for young Charlotte. She should arrive any moment.”

“Are you also here to welcome the prodigal daughter of the Republic back into the fold?” Jeremy asked as he sat awkwardly on the lounge next to Rachel, who was ignoring everyone for the sake of the cards in her hands. 

“I have been very worried about Mrs. Matheson,” Bass said wryly. “I’m very worried that she is bored living here with us, Jeremy. Idle hands, Rachel.”

She looked up with wide eyes, “Yes, do tell us what idle hands do, Mr. President.”

Her use of his formal title caused a muscle in his neck to twitch and she smiled broadly at him in return. 

“There is a big, empty lab,” Bass explained to Jeremy, like an old friend discussing a football game. “And she’s shown no interest in it. No matter what I do. I’m starting to think she doesn’t like my gifts.”

Bass had an uncanny ability to look like a wolf about to pick off the smallest deer in the herd when he smiled. Rachel, on the other hand, always looked a bit like she was smiling at a bug that she was about to squish under her heel. Being in the presence of both of these toothy expressions was causing Captain Baker to sweat, he could feel a drop trickling down the back of his neck.

“You know,” he stood up, “give my regards to Charlie. I’m sure I’ll see her around and…” Jeremy floundered a bit, juggling the package in his hand before finally setting it down on top of Rachel’s Solitaire spread, causing a slight frown to appear on her face. “See you, Rach… er… Mrs. Matheson… um… Mr. President.”

In his hurry to disentangle himself from the awkward meeting he had somehow stumbled into, Jeremy didn’t notice the slight murmur of voices in the entryway, and as he attempted to duck out of the room, ran smack into a woman with long, flowing blonde hair, and a wide smile on her pert face. 

“Jeremy!?” a feminine voice shouted in his ear as he saw stars and tried to regain his balance and then he was looking down into Charlie Matheson’s smiling face seconds before she pulled him into a tight hug. “Jeremy it’s _so good_ to see you!”

“Charlie,” Jeremy held the girl out at arm’s length and smiled down at her. Somehow she managed to look just like she did the first day he met her, a tiny little girl trotted down the road at her mother’s side, and also exude a rare sense of confidence and wild, reckless freedom that most of the women her age living in Philadelphia couldn’t capture. “Charlie-girl how are you kid?” 

She wrinkled her nose and him and spit her tongue out pertly, “Not a kid anymore, can’t you tell?”

“All the damn recruits in Philly can tell,” Miles muttered behind her, smiling grimly at Jeremy. “Real wise-asses.”

“We’ll set them straight,” Jeremy grinned at her and then glanced over his shoulder where Bass was still lounging in his chair, swirling his iced tea and Rachel was pretending to still care about Solitaire. “I’ll buy you a drink and we’ll catch up soon, kay?”

“Like hell,” Miles growled. 

“Of course!” Charlie said brightly, kissing Jeremy on the cheek. “And you owe me a game of chess.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Jeremy called over his shoulder on the way out the door. Once on the street he took a deep breath and sagged a little. 

“That bad?” a woman with dark hair sidled up to him, keeping pace as he began to charge down the street. 

Jeremy barely spared her a glance, “You know how it is better than most, Nora.”

She laughed hollowly, but didn’t say anything. 

“How was it… on the road?” he hedged.

She stopped suddenly and he had to back up a few paces once he realized she wasn’t beside him anymore, “’Bout what you’d expect I guess.”

“She’s alive,” Jeremy mused aloud, looking up and down the street, always battle-ready despite the sense of peace that pervaded the Philadelphia streets. 

“She’s definitely that,” Nora laughed. 

“Was it… was it dicey there for a minute?” his heart quickened in his chest. 

Nora shook her head, “She held her own. She was trained by the Monroe militia’s commanding officers, raised by General Matheson himself, daughter to Rachel Matheson. She didn’t just _not die_.” Nora blinked up at him, “Isn’t that what you were expecting?”

Jeremy looked back at the house and smiled, “For her to kick ass.”

 

 

_”You’re sending Charlie **where**?” Rachel stood up and began pacing the room, wringing her hands in front of her. _

_Miles sighed and sank down on the bed, “Nora’s got a few bounties down in Texas and Charlie’s been chomping at the bit to prove herself, I can’t hold her back anymore and _also_ keep her away from Bass.”_

_“You sent her to that training camp,” Rachel listed the offenses on her fingers, “and then off with Julia Neville for a year, then up North on a secret mission I can’t even know about, then you quarantined her off at that hellhole, and now this?”_

_Miles sighed, “I didn’t send her to the re-education camp, actually created a training camp just for her with the best guys I know, because you _asked_ me to get her out of Philly. She came back and you said she was too much of a soldier, so I let her go with Julia to visit some diplomats down in Atlanta. Turns out she’s a helleva spy so Baker took her with him up North to deal with the situation on the border. And that _hellhole_ was the university, just across town. I thought you _wanted_ Charlie to be educated?”_

_Rachel sat down on the bed next to Miles gently, “Can’t you just… let her go back to Ben?”_

_“Charlie’s nineteen now, even if I sent her to Ben, she wouldn’t stay there long. She trusts Nora, she’ll stay with her, and Nora can protect her.”_

_“She loves you, she’d do anything you ask her to do,” Rachel protested._

_“For the sake of the Republic, maybe. But if I sent her to Ben and there was nothing for her to do, no soldiers, no bounties… Rachel she made a grown man cry at the university. More than once! I’m trying to do the right thing here.”_

_“The _right_ thing wouldn’t be taking my daughter away from her parents.”_

_“You,” Miles stood up and stabbed a finger in her direction, “are the one that said keep her away from the capital, from the politics, from Bass. _You_ said that. The first day you got here. What did you expect me to do?”_

_Rachel looked up at him silently, her eyes rimmed red and her hands curled into fists in her lap._

_Miles laughed softly, no humor in it, the sound made Rachel’s skin crawl, “You wanted me to protect the sanctity of your motherhood, keep you two together. Tell Bass that you know something about the Blackout, get you to Philly, and then somehow whisk the two of you away together?” He walked to the window, standing with his feet spread apart, his hands behind his back, “You’re smarter than that, Rachel.”_

_“Fine. Anyone but Nora.”_

_Miles didn’t turn around, but his spine stiffened, “Nora is the best fucking bounty hunter I’ve ever met, I trust her with my daughter. And she loves Charlie.”_

_“I don’t trust her,” Rachel said primly._

_“Because I’m fucking her?” He turned his head and smiled at her, “And yet, I put her in Baker’s hands for a full year, let her go undercover across enemy lines with him as her only contact, and didn’t hold your relationship against him.”_

_Rachel looked down at her hands, “I miss my daughter. My happy little girl. You are turning her into a soldier. That’s not what I ever wanted for her.”_

_Miles looked out the dark window again and laughed, “She wouldn’t stay in the house when you first got here, you remember that? Kept sneaking out the windows. Had the whole place in an uproar. I had to send a couple of really good men to the front as punishment because they lost her.” He sighed heavily, “She was never going to just sit here and wait with you meekly. She thrived in training, at _twelve_ , Rachel. She was just a kid and she was a better shot, a better leader, than my best men.”_

_“And you can’t let an asset like that go to waste in the Republic,” Rachel spat out bitterly._

_“No,” Miles turned, his voice harsh and his eyes wild. “I can’t let _my kid_ go through life not knowing what her strengths are. I’m not going to put Charlie in a cage just because you don’t like me right now.” He softened a little, leaning back against the wall and letting his limbs relax, “Just for the record, she’s a fucking piss of an excuse for a soldier. Too stubborn to take orders and too damn smart to keep her mouth shut. I’d give her a command of her own if she wasn’t too young and if that wouldn’t make Bass really, _really_ interested in her. Sending her off with Nora keeps her busy, keeps her safe.”_

_“Keeps her away from me,” Rachel said mournfully._

_Miles reached for her, hesitated, and then dropped his hand, “If you would just tell him what you know about the Blackout…”_

_“Get out.” She raised her eyes to his, they were full of fire and for a moment he didn’t know whether he should reach out and grab that flame, try to keep it for himself, or if it would burn him where he stood. “And if she’s harmed, I’ll kill you myself.”_

_“I’ll load the gun,” Miles said over his shoulder on his way out the door. “You aren’t the only one who loves Charlie. If it were my choice, she’d just stay here, Bass be damned.”_

_Rachel sunk down on the bed and stifled back a sob._

 

 

Charlie watched Jeremy trip over himself trying to leave the house as quickly as possible and tried desperately not to laugh. He didn’t get nervous often, but if her parents were in the same room at the same time, the tension always seemed to be too much for him. She turned back to her mother’s sitting room and noticed first, that there seemed to be at least three new bookcases full of books lining the walls since she had last been home. Her mother was seated in her typical spot on the chaise lounge, her back to the entrance. It was strategically the best and worst position in the room, although she couldn’t immediately see who was coming through the hallway behind her, she could see both streets outside from the line of windows on both walls, and she was blocked by a potted plant and several side tables, so no one could rush up on her without crashing into something. It wasn’t the spot Charlie would choose, but it said a lot about her mother. 

In the armchair across from her, facing the entrance, but with his back to the streets was a man about her father’s age, with curly blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a wicked smile on his face. He was lounging comfortably despite the fact that Miles was right behind her, and there were very few people in the Republic that could afford to decline Miles Matheson attention when he entered a room. She was one of those people, Rachel was another, Nora was the tenuous third (depending upon the day), and the President himself was the fourth. 

He was every bit as obscenely attractive as the rumors said. She took a moment to look him over, refusing to be embarrassed when he caught her staring, rather raising her eyebrow at him when he slowly did the same. 

Behind her, Miles started to shift, and Charlie flung herself into action.

“Mr. President,” she smiled broadly at him as she walked steadily across the floor. “How kind of you to keep my mother company while I was away.” She gave her mother a brief hug and then sat down in the armchair next to Monroe, leaving Miles with the option to either stand awkwardly, or take the seat next to Rachel. He shot her an unamused glance as he sat down. 

“I’m afraid that Captain Baker has that special task far more often than I do,” Bass said drolly, growing more amused when Rachel and Miles both shifted awkwardly to grant the other more space on the lounge. He turned his attention back to Charlie, “Your triumphant return has caused quite a stir of gossip in the Capital, and I thought I should come over and welcome you myself. It’s strange that I have never met Miles’ daughter before now.” 

Charlie sensed the air suddenly fill with tension and she reached out to touch Monroe on the arm before fully thinking it through, “Don’t take it personally.” He turned towards her and her heart hammered against her ribcage, “I think they’re rather ashamed of me.” She put on a fake mask of humility and solemnity, “It is rather a burden to be a disgraced love child.”

Miles choked and began coughing loudly, while Rachel turned a furious shade of red. Bass ignored them, leaning closer to Charlie, “Us bastards should stick together,” he whispered.”

Charlie burst into laughter, a low chuckle that brought a sparkle to the President’s eyes, “But you at least had the chance to _earn_ the title while I had it forced upon me.”

The room went deadly still, even as Charlie smiled broadly and Bass’ eyes danced. Calling the President of the Monroe Republic a bastard to his face was probably a crime, or he could make it a crime, she was a second away from being flogged or punished or sent to a re-education camp. Miles cleared his throat, unsure whether he needed to step in and save her from herself. 

Bass smiled cheerily over at her and rested his hand on top of her knee, “Oh I think there’s time yet to turn you into something rather magnificent and deserving of the title.” He winked at her and then stood up, as if he had suddenly decided on something. He pointed at Miles, “She’s coming.”

Miles gaped up at him as Bass strode purposefully from the room. He got as far as the front door and then walked back up the hall to poke his head into the room, “Charlie, I think you may be the best kept secret treasure of the Republic.”

“I keep telling them that, sir.”

“Bass,” he shook his head at her reproachfully. “Call me Bass.”

 

 

_”She doesn’t hate you, Miles. She’s a little girl and she’s in a new place and she’s confused,” Rachel raised a cloth napkin to her mouth and dabbed it._

_Miles glared at her from across the table. She belonged here, in the Capital of the Republic, at the head of a large table, even if she fought it. “You don’t have to be a prisoner here, you know,” he said sullenly. He was getting tired of this fight._

_“Right,” Rachel said sarcastically, raising a glass of wine and saluting him mockingly with it. “I could tell Bass something I don’t know about something that he shouldn’t have because he’s turned into a complete sociopath.”_

_“You _do_ know,” he sighed, throwing his napkin onto his plate with frustration and sinking low in his chair. _

_“Just spend time with her Miles. No twelve year old girl is going to react well to being torn from her father and brother and then be told that her life isn’t what she thought it was.”_

_“You think it was stupid for me to ask you to bring her.”_

_“You didn’t ask.”_

_“The world is different now, Rachel. And I deserved a chance to get to know my daughter!”_

_Rachel stood up and drained the glass of wine in her hand. “So then get to know her. Spend time with her. But,” she pointed a finger at him, “keep her away from Bass. I don’t care what you have to do, I don’t want him getting his clutches into her.”_

_She turned on her heel and marched out of the room like a queen in her element, instead of a quasi-political-prisoner._

_Miles looked down at his plate full of food and murmured morosely, “That’s a losing battle, dear.”_

 

 

Charlie stared down at the vial of clear liquid in her hand and swallowed hard. Things were weird. Things were weirder than weird. This was so _not_ what she was expecting her mother to say to her on today of all days. 

“Mom, I can’t … do this.”

Rachel looked up from the trunk she was packing on the other side of the room, “Sure you can. You just dump it into his glass and _poof_!”

Charlie stood up, “You want me to kill Bass?”

Rachel sighed and walked around the bed over to her daughter. She rubbed Charlie’s arms with her hands comfortingly, “I promise this is for the best.”

“How? How is this for the best?”

Rachel stepped back, “Charlie?” Her brow furrowed in confusion, “Monroe is… crazy. And a dictator. And he’s held me as a prisoner for years.” Her voice softened and the hair on the back of Charlie’s neck stood up, “Don’t you want… to see your dad? And Danny? When he’s gone, we’ll be free! And so will hundreds of other people!”

Charlie set the vial down on the dresser, “Mom? Do you even know _why_ I’m moving into the President’s House?”

Rachel pursed her lips, “I’m perfectly aware of what Bass Monroe _wants_ from you, Charlie.”

“He wants me to find his son.” Charlie paused for effect, waited to see if there would be any change in Rachel’s expression. There wasn’t. “He’s down in Mexico. And I’m the only one Bass trusts to go.”

Rachel stared at her blankly.

“If I’m supposedly living at the Capital, being Monroe’s…” Charlie blushed. “No one will expect me to be in Texas, get across the border. No one will be following me because there will be no one to follow.”

“That’s… the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Rachel burst out.

“Okay… so Bass is a little paranoid right now,” Charlie admitted. “But with everything that’s happened lately…” she shrugged. “If this is the way he wants to do this?”

“Charlie, this boy is _better off_ without Bass as his father.”

Charlie backed up, furious, “Like how I was _better off_ thinking that Ben was my dad instead of Miles? Like how you would have kept that from me my _whole life_ if Miles hadn’t sent for me?! I could be some little prairie housewife back at the farm right now, bored out of my mind, but instead I’m here! I’m the best goddamn bounty hunter in the Republic, other than Nora. The President trusts me with his life, with _his son’s life_ , I’m _somebody_.” Charlie picked up the vial off the dresser and threw it on the ground, watched it crack and spill its contents with unrestrained pleasure. “Before, you were someone. You were a scientist, you were important, why do you want me to be nothing?”

Rachel reached for Charlie, “Sweetheart, I want you to be someone! Someone who is good and kind and fights for the right things!”

“Like how you are fighting to turn the lights back on,” Charlie countered, her voice harsh and low. “Everyone talks about the Blackout like it was this terrible curse, no one likes the world the way it is, you want Bass to be out of power? For the rebels calling themselves Americans to win? Why don’t you turn the lights back on, make the world the way it used to be?”

The two women stared at each other for a minute. A stalemate. 

Charlie shrugged, “You know, before you try to convince someone to try to save the world, maybe you should look in the mirror and ask yourself why you don’t. Killing Monroe won’t change anything, not really. It’ll just make _you_ feel better.” She looked over at the trunk full of clothes, “I’ll send Jason and Jeremy over for my stuff later.”

“Charlie!” Rachel begged. “Please, don’t leave like this.”

“Just…” Charlie turned around, “Just tell me to be safe. Tell me to come home and not die. Tell me to do a good job.”

“Please don’t die,” Rachel whispered.

“I’ll do my best mom.”

 

 

_”You kept this from me for all these years?” Bass looked down at the glass of whiskey in his hands and tried to make them stop shaking._

_Shaking from rage wasn’t a good sign, was it? It couldn’t be._

_“Emma died last month, a courier just brought word. I had people watching out for her, but there was a raid from one of the wandering clans and… I didn’t find out in time. I’m so sorry, Bass,” Miles, damn him, actually sounded sorry. Actually sounded like he fucking cared._

_“And my … son?”_

_“He’s safe. He’s been safe for a long time I…”_

_Bass looked up from his glass, “Go ahead, brother. What else did you do?”_

_“I had him moved. To Mexico. He has an aunt and uncle there and…”_

_“Stop.” Bass pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and sighed deeply. “Just get the fuck out.”_

_“Bass…?”_

_“I’m serious. Go check in with Hudson and his command and then bring your girlfriend home, isn’t she down in Texas?”_

_Miles hesitated for a second, “Yes.”_

_“Meet her at the border, bring her home. Call it a fucking gift. Take your time on the road back.”_

_“Bass…?”_

_Bass looked up at Miles, his eyes haunted and hollow, “Take a holiday, Miles. When you get back we’ll talk.”_

_Miles nodded silently and left, his boots clacking against the tile of the hallway._

_Bass stared moodily at his drink for a moment, before calling out to the guard in the hallway. He peered blurrily up at the boy and smiled, “What’s your name kid?”_

_“Neville. Jason Neville, Mr. President sir.”_

_Bass smiled, “Tom’s kid.”_

_“Yes sir.”_

_“Jason, what can you tell me about Charlie Matheson?”_

_The young man got a little pink around the ears and he shifted on his feet ever so slightly, “General Matheson’s daughter, sir?”_

_“You’re in love with her, lieutenant?” The boy hesitated and Monroe smiled toothily, “If you fucked her you can tell me, I won’t rat you out to Miles.”_

_Jason looked over his shoulder and then turned back to Bass, “Permission to speak freely, sir?”_

_Bass spread his arms wide, “We’re just two bros shootin’ the shit in here, son.”_

_He wavered, which only increased Bass’ interest, “She’s amazing, sir.”_

_“Amazing?” Bass scoffed, “Sounds like she’s got your balls on a leash.”_

_“Sir… she can take our best in hand-to-hand combat and is better marksman than many of the commanding officers.”_

_Bass raised his glass up to the light and studied the amber liquid inside, “Pretty, too.”_

_“Damn gorgeous, sir. If you’ll excuse me.”_

_“Sounds too good to be true.”_

_“Rumor is she made that doctor down at the university cry, the one that teaches history or something. And that she went undercover for Captain Baker up North last year.”_

_“And you believe these rumors?”_

_Neville bowed his head, “I’ve met her, sir.”_

_“You’ve fucked her.”_

_“General Matheson would kill any man that touches her,” Neville said slowly, “but…”_

_“But that doesn’t stop her,” Bass guessed._

_“No sir.”_

_“Sounds like a fucking Matheson.”_

_“I wouldn’t know, sir,” Neville said, almost apologetically. “I’ve only… experienced the one.”_

_“Broke your heart, didn’t she?”_

_“Sir. She can whip my ass without trying, shoot an apple off my head from fifty yards, and seduced me in a storage closet. If my heart wasn’t broken, I wouldn’t be a man, sir.”_

_Bass barked out a laugh, “Go rouse Captain Baker for me. I want to chat with him about his agent in the North.”_

_Neville bowed, “It’s two in the morning, sir.”_

_“His President calls.”_

_“Yes, sir.”_

 

Miles watched Charlie leave Bass’ room and looked up at the clock in the hall with a frown. It was three in the fucking morning. And his _daughter_ was just now sauntering out of the President’s bedroom, looking downright pleased with herself. She had that same ‘cat got the cream’ look that she had when he found her in a storage closet with the Neville kid when she was sixteen. 

“The trouble,” he said with no preamble as he barged into Bass’ room, “with raising an independent, self-reliant daughter is that sometimes they do really stupid things and you can’t do anything about it.”

Bass smiled from his chair by the fire and held out a glass of whiskey for him, “I wouldn’t know. I never raised any children.”

Miles sat down in the chair next to him and huffed, “Daughters are their own special kind of hell. Trust me.”

“You didn’t even get to be around for the cute toothless, pigtails stage did you?”

“Nope,” Miles took the whole shot of whiskey in one gulp. “Was handed a fully-grown tween and expected to know what I was doing.”

Bass hummed sympathetically. 

“Are you… are you trying to get back at me?”

Bass laughed, “You know, when I was trying to figure Charlie out, guess what I discovered?”

Miles looked at him balefully. 

“Brother, half of Philly is head over heels in love with that girl. I think half my commanding officers would lay down their guns for her if she so much as smiled in their direction. I don’t know if I should be pissed at you for keeping her from me or thanking you.”

“Thank me?”

Bass raised his glass in salute, “You raised her with my men and now they are loyal to her. Keeping her away from me, you raised her to take over the Republic when we’re ready. Or if we aren’t and there isn’t another choice.”

Miles looked into the fire, “Fuck.”

“Rachel’s gonna kill you.”

“It was Rachel’s idea. Kind of. To keep her away from you, anyway.”

“Bet she didn’t expect this.”

Miles grabbed his friend’s arm, “We never tell her this.”

“Never,” Bass nodded. 

“There’s another reason,” Miles said as he poured himself another two fingers of whiskey. 

“You kept her away when she was gangly and young. I don’t have any memories of toothless, pigtails Charlie. Or awkward puberty Charlie. Or totally illegal I should be shot for staring at her ass Charlie.”

Miles considered the whiskey in his hand and then flung the liquid into the fire, causing a spurt of flames, “Wouldn’t be the first time you took something I loved.”

Bass twirled the glass in his hand thoughtfully, “I haven’t seduced her yet.”

“Yet?”

“She’ll make a damn fine General someday. Once she’s done running around in circles.”

“So?”

“So,” Bass took a drink and then stood up. “So now it’s her choice. Monroe or Monroe Junior.”

Miles’ mouth went dry, he immediately regretted giving his whiskey to the fire, “You’re sending her to Mexico.”

“She’s the right person for the job.”

“Alone?!” Miles burst out. 

Bass blinked down at him, “Of course not. Every President needs a General.”

Miles rubbed his temples with his fingers, “You’re sending her to Mexico alone?”

“Of course,” Bass smiled and looked over at the fire, “she’s the only one I can trust.”

“I should be the one to go,” Miles insisted.

“And everyone from Sacramento to Boston would know that you were gone. Mini-Matheson is moved into the Big House and then disappears from society for a few months? Everyone assumes I’m keeping her all to myself, no one notices that she’s gone. We keep working like nothing is different. And she comes back with my boy.”

“No one has ever noticed her movements before. She’s the best undercover agent Baker has ever had. And the best bounty hunter Nora’s had working with her.”

“In Philadelphia everyone knows who she is and knows when she’s on-mission. Also,” Bass looked over at him sheepishly, “I wasn’t really quiet when I made inquiries about her over the past few months. They all know I’ve taken an interest.”

“So I just sit back while the President fucks my daughter and no one thinks that’s weird?”

Bass shrugged, “It could be worse.”

“No. No it couldn’t.”

“She could have run off with Neville’s kid.”

Miles looked up at him for a moment, eyes wide. And then the two collapsed into laughter.

 

 

_”Charlie? Don’t you think maybe… you could stay home with me for a little while this time? I never get to see you?”_

_“I just spent a week with you, mom,” Charlie sighed, picking through her backpack distractedly. “We played like a thousand games of chess with Jeremy and I learned how to bake a cake. Quality, quality time.”_

_“We never went for a walk on the river like you wanted? Stay just one more week.”_

_Charlie rolled her eyes, god she was _so_ sixteen, it clawed at Rachel’s chest. “You never asked Neville for the security detail. We can’t just wander around Philadelphia. Miles even makes _me_ keep a guard with me when I’m here.”_

_“The Capital shouldn’t be dangerous.”_

_“Monroe has enemies everywhere,” Charlie muttered under her breath._

_“Yeah,” Rachel rejoined sarcastically, “I wonder why.”_

_Charlie looked over at her mother and narrowed her eyes, “Honestly? I do, too. It’s much safer in the Republic than over in the Plains. And the President isn’t any worse than Foster.”_

_“You aren’t serious?” Rachel whispered._

_“When’s the last time you visited the Federation?” Charlie shook her head, “I know things are different up here, but they aren’t worse, just different.”_

_“Charlie, do you not understand…?”_

_Charlie shrugged on her backpack and turned to her mother, a resigned expression on her face, “I know you hate it here, and you hate what dad and the President are doing, but... they just did what they thought was right and are sticking to it. If you want things to change, be more like Georgia, why don’t you talk to dad?”_

_“Ben Matheson is your father,” Rachel ground out._

_Charlie nodded, a faint smile on her face, “He _was_. He is. But I have Miles, too.” Someone knocked on the door downstairs. She took a deep breath, “Wish me luck, mom. And don’t worry, dad says I’ll be with Jeremy the whole time, so I’ll be perfectly safe.”_

_Rachel hugged her, “I’m so sorry the world is this way.”_

_Charlie laughed and spun Rachel around in a circle, “I’m not. I’m hot and armed and my dad runs a country and I’m about to go on a secret mission.” She whirled out the door before Rachel could respond._

 

 

“You did what now?” Bass looked across his desk at Charlie and the scrawny beanpole next to her and tried to glower. It was really hard to glower when Charlie was beaming at him like that, a bead of sweat trickling down her chest, disappearing between her breasts, her hair a wild tangle and a charming smudge on her nose. 

“Well now, listen Bass, I didn’t exactly mean to…” her voice trailed off as Miles entered. “Hey dad!” She bounced over and pulled Miles into a big hug. The three hulking men that had trailed into Bass’ office behind her tensed at Miles’ entrance and now were visibly trying to hide their smiles. 

Bass beckoned to Miles, “Come sit next to me, General. And listen to this ridiculous story your daughter has to tell us.”

“You don’t believe her?” the beanpole asked incredulously. “But didn’t you send her to get me because you trusted her?”

“Connor,” Bass smiled charmingly at his son. “I trust Charlie with your life and with the safety of this Republic and with any of Baker’s ridiculous spy-plots. That said, I do not believe that one just walks into the Plains Nation and comes out with a clan accidentally.”

“It… wasn’t … _exactly_ an accident?” Charlie twisted her face into something that looked like an apology but was more rabbit-like than sincere. “I did Duncan Paige a favor and she leant me five of her guys to take with me to Mexico.”

“Which was damn lucky, since your girl here decided to kidnap me from the Nunez Cartel,” Connor interrupted.

“Shut up,” Charlie bit out. She turned to Bass and rolled her eyes, “Your idiot son got himself involved with a Cartel down in Mexico and if it wasn’t for me, they probably would have killed him by now.”

“Speculative,” Connor muttered.

“Permission to kick his ass, Mr. President?” Charlie smirked. 

Bass closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them, “If he keeps being a smart ass, then yes. But not until after you explain this favor you did for Paige.”

Charlie opened her mouth. Closed it. Smiled toothily. And then bit her lip, “It was… personal?”

Bass pointed at the hulking man standing close behind Charlie’s right elbow, “You. Why did Paige loan you out to a kid?”

“If you don’t answer, he has every right to hang you,” Miles said. Bass could detect a bit of humor in his tone, but didn’t call him on it. All he wanted right now was a long, cold bath and a tumbler of whiskey. 

Or Charlie Matheson alone in his office with her smart mouth for five minutes. He could convince her of anything in five minutes, if he could just get her alone. Or maybe he’d let her convince _him_. He licked his lips. The year and a half on the road had been good to her. She was leaner and harder, her skin darkened and freckled in the sun, her hair a shade lighter and much longer. He could wrap it around his fist and…

“Bass?” Miles didn’t sound amused anymore.

“Yes,” Bass said gruffly. “Yes I could. If Charlie won’t tell me than you might as well.”

“Alright!” Charlie said loudly. “There was this boxing ring?”

“Boxing ring?” Connor’s ears perked up. Ah, so she hadn’t shared the story with him. Interesting. 

“So, okay. I stopped in New Vegas to make a little money to get further South and also… gambling halls are the best place to catch gossip. So I was doing some boxing for this guy and I found out that he was trying to screw over Paige and …”

“Kill her,” the hulk behind her supplied.

“Right.” Charlie’s eyes darted to Miles. “Okay dad? Don’t freak out. Because look! I’m alive! And I got Connor? And I have a war clan now.”

“But if you saved Paige from the murder plot in New Vegas then…?” Miles had a headache. 

“On my way back, a couple of months later, the rest of the clan caught up with me near the border of Texas. Paige got taken out by this nasty group calling themselves the Patriots.”

“When was this?” Miles ground out before Bass got the chance. 

Charlie shuffled her feet.

“Six months ago,” Connor supplied.

“It took you six months to get from the Texas border back to Philly?!” Bass was sure that Miles was going to have a stroke. He really needed his General to not have a stroke. 

“No,” Charlie sounded annoyed. “It took me six months to do as much reconnaissance on the Patriots as I could before heading back here. You are going to want to hear this, Bass. These guys? They aren’t fucking around.” She gestured to her new bodyguards, “I left most of my guys in the Plains Nations, trying to round up the other clans. The Patriots went through and took out all the leaders they could find, the men there are just wandering with no leadership, nothing to keep them from killing each other until there’s nothing left.” She stepped forward, “There’s more. Let me tell you… without such an audience?”

Miles snorted, “I haven’t heard---“

Bass stood up, “Everybody get the fuck out.” Baker and Neville looked at him with surprise and Miles started to protest. “Except you,” he pointed at Charlie, who smiled gently. He looked around the room, at the frozen people gathered all around, “NOW GODDAMNIT.”

Everyone jumped to attention, clearing out as quickly as they could without tripping over each other. Bass watched Charlie gently speak to her men and gesture to them to wait outside. He couldn’t tell if he was impressed or pissed off. 

Connor stepped forward a step, “Hey, shouldn’t we like talk or something?”

Bass waved his hand at him, “We’ll have a family dinner. Later. Maybe tomorrow.”

As Miles passed her, Charlie grabbed his arm, “Hey dad? Get mom down here as soon as you can. The Patriots… I think she’s the only one that can stop them.”

“Fucking perfect,” Miles muttered under his breath, giving Charlie a quick squeeze before ushering Connor out of the room. He glanced back to look at Bass once more before closing the door, but his face was such a mixture of frustration and annoyance and acceptance, that there was really no way to interpret it. 

“Bass,” Charlie turned to him and held out her hands. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long and I know that I was supposed to just bring Connor back here, but … this thing with the Patriots. They make you look like a helpless little kitten.”

Bass looked down at his desk and tried to get himself under control, but finally just decided to give up. He’d sent everyone away for a reason. 

He looked up and found Charlie smiling at him a bit bemused, but patiently waiting. He prowled around the edge of the desk, closing the space between them slowly. She watched him with parted lips, but didn’t move or shrink back. When he was nearly touching her, he leaned down and looked her in the eye, “I’m going to kiss you now.”

She smirked, “Doesn’t a gentleman usually ask?”

“I’m not a gentleman,” he breathed. 

He leaned forward and gently pressed his lips against hers. In the split second before their lips touched, he was suddenly struck with the fear that he would frighten her, that she said no and he wasn’t good at listening, but before he could wrap his head around this sudden influx of doubt, she moaned and pressed herself closer, raked her fingers up in his hair and tugged him down, took his lower lip between her teeth and bit just a bit too harshly. He lurched back and looked at her closely, his hands running down the length of her long back, tangling in her hair. 

“So,” she asked, a note of teasing in her voice. “Did you send me all the way to Mexico to make sure you wouldn’t kiss me?”

“No.” He laughed and kissed her again, harder, pulling her closer, pressing her body against his. “I sent you to Mexico so you’d fall in love with my son,” he admitted to her collarbone, teasing it with his teeth. 

“That was… monumentally stupid,” she gasped, her fingers tugging at his hair. 

“I’m a monumental idiot,” he agreed, raising his head to kiss her again, his tongue tracing the seam of her mouth until she opened her lips with a sigh. He found himself lifting her up as they kissed, one hand under her thigh and the other pressed into the small of her back. She clung to his waist with her legs and even with all her strength, felt like a fine piece of china in his hands. 

Someone started pounding at the door and Charlie chuckled when he moaned and shook his head. “I don’t want to be President today.”

“That’s too bad, because I really need you to be President today,” Charlie said as she slipped her legs off his hips and slid down the length of him. “There’s a war coming.”

He lifted her chin in his hands, “You are going to be an amazing First Lady.”

“Fuck you,” she said, her eyes dancing. “I’m a General first, you need me even if you don’t know it.”

“Oh trust me baby, I know it,” he promised, tugging at her hand to try to stop her from going to the door.

Just as he managed to tuck her back against him, she called out, “Come on in!” and the door flung open, Rachel Matheson standing there pissed as hell. 

“Hey mom,” Charlie said, turning in Bass’ arms, tone cool. “What can you tell us about Randall Flynn?”

 

 

_”How did you know when you fell in love with dad?”_

_Rachel smiled across the chessboard at her daughter, “Well. Your father is a wonderful man. I think I knew I loved him on our third date, he took me to a really terrible Chinese place that had really great reviews online and ate a pepper on accident. He was such a huge _nerd_ , and was trying way too hard to impress me, and I just… knew.” Rachel lost herself in the memory for a moment before turning back to the game and her daughter, “So I married him.”_

_“No,” Charlie made a soft sound of disgust. “Not Ben, I mean Miles. When did you fall in love with Miles?”_

_Rachel stiffened, “Oh honey… I never…”_

_“Bullshit,” Charlie spit the word out with a malice Rachel didn’t know a fourteen year old girl could possess. “I see the way you look at him, the way he watches you, I know that you loved him once. Even if you are mad at him right now or whatever. You never looked at Ben that way. And he never looked at you that way.”_

_Rachel chuckled under her breath, “I think you are confusing hostility and resentment for love, sweetheart.”_

_Charlie stood up and knocked over Rachel’s queen, “And I think _you_ are confusing complacency for love and passion for hate.”_

_She stalked out of the room and left Rachel to stare at the board and try to figure out how Charlie had gotten to check mate without Rachel noticing._

 

 

Bass looked over at the naked woman sprawled on her stomach across his sheets and hummed with satisfaction. He stood up at went to the table on the other side of the room that held his decanter of scotch and poured himself a shot, nursing it slowly as he watched Charlie sleep, her breath even and steady in the moonlight. 

Only hours before she had pulled him out of a Cabinet meeting to stare him down and give him a verbal lashing he wasn’t quite sure he deserved and dished out one of his own that he was absolutely _certain_ she didn’t deserve and after about twenty minutes of arguing, they sat back down in the office and drew up contingency plans for the upcoming battle against the Patriots. 

Rachel and Miles had gone to collect Ben and head to the Tower to stop Randall Flynn’s plan to drop bombs on Philadelphia and Atlanta four months ago, and there had been no word whether they were successful, or dead, or what. Connor had been sent, in the care of Julia and Jason Neville, to Atlanta as a sign of the Republic’s good will and an alliance. Connor, judging from Julia’s letters, was thriving in the political scene in Atlanta. Charlie had sent Jeremy with her men from the war clan and Nora to the Plains Nations to help broker a sense of peace and alliance to the leaderless clans there. Her men were nearly as loyal to Nora as they were to her, which made Jeremy’s job that much easier.

Miles had suggested sending Hudson and Wheatley to negotiate with Blanchard in Texas and Bass had agreed because he couldn’t go himself and Charlie was teaching him how to be better at delegating tasks. 

“Your men won’t trust you unless you trust them,” she had reprimanded when Bass tried to argue against Hudson and Wheatley being sent to Texas. “You don’t have to conscript men to fight if they believe in what they’re fighting for.” She had looked up at him owlishly, “Were _you_ conscripted?”

“And if they betray us?” he had argued, frazzled.

Charlie had shrugged, leaning over the map unconcernedly, “Then the Patriots get Texas without any fight and we have a stronger force to contend with.” She had grinned up at him a little maniacally, “So what? We can take on Texas with the Plains and Georgia at our backs.”

“You are a bloodthirsty little she-demon,” he had said appreciatively. He had meant it as a compliment and she had taken it as one. 

The Republic had never been stronger, had never been stretched so thin, had never had so much to lose. And frankly, neither had he. And the whole world knew it.

He glanced back over at the bed and found Charlie looking up at him, her head on her arms. “What are you thinking about?” she said.

“How much we could lose if this all goes to hell,” he said, swinging the scotch back with one gulp. 

“There’s always a lot to lose,” she smiled at him.

He walked back to the bed, slid down beside her, kissing the top of her shoulder and rubbing his hand softly down her back, smacking her ass a little. “Now I could lose you.”

“Don’t be a sap, Fabio.” She rolled over onto her side to face him, nuzzling closer, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yeah well if your dipshit parents fail us, then we’re all dead.”

She hummed and kissed his throat in response. 

“Why are you so certain they can pull this off?”

She leaned her head back to look at him, “Well…” she said slowly. “They’ve all failed me in their own way at one point or another. But I find it highly unlikely that all three of them would fail me at the same time. Especially with Danny there to keep them in line.”

Bass huffed out a small smile and kissed the top of her head.

“You think we should move the capital,” she said. She always knew what he was thinking. It was damn spooky. He didn’t respond. “If we moved, the Patriots would just have a new target. We take a chance.”

“We put thousands of lives on the line on the off chance that your parents don’t lose against an invading military force.”

“We put everything on the line every day, how is this any different?” Charlie buried her head in his chest and sighed. “If you think we should move, let’s move.”

“But you have faith.”

“Faith is stupid. Let’s move the women and children slowly. So no one panics and no one suspects. It will just look like… I don’t know. We can advertise it as city upgrades. One neighborhood at a time.”

“This is all very strange,” Bass mused.

“What is?” she bit the soft skin just above his nipple and smiled. “Me in bed with you? Been a few months now, Mr. President, you’d better get used to it.”

Bass wrapped his arms tightly around her and rolled over onto his back, so that she was sprawled on top of him, “No. This me. Worrying about collateral damage.”

Charlie laughed, “A conscience looks good on you.”

“Don’t let me lose it,” he murmured into her hair.

“Let’s watch each other,” she sat up, straddling his waist, her long hair dangling down over one ear, tickling his chest. Damn he loved her hair. “Deal?”

“If I could watch you like this all day every day,” he smoothed a hand over her skin from her throat, between her breasts, down the smooth lines of her stomach, and flicked at her clit playfully, “I’d give up being President.”

“Good thing I insist on wearing clothes whenever we have a meeting with your Cabinet, hey?” she teased. 

“Damn shame it is,” he whispered, lifting himself up to kiss her deeply, losing himself in her warmth for a moment while the world and a war and their Republic waited on the other side of the door.

 

 

_Charlie sat down on the floor just inside the doorway of her mother’s room and watched Rachel dart back and forth frantically trying to stuff as much as she could into the worn backpack Miles had handed her earlier that day. “Don’t fill it with too much stuff,” Charlie cautioned. “You are going to be walking for a long time, you don’t want it to be any more heavy than it needs to be. And you want to be able to put food in there sometimes, too.”_

_Rachel stopped her restless pacing and looked down at her daughter, “How do you do this all the time?”_

_“What? Pack?”_

_“Walk out the door and not know…” Rachel bit her lip and took a deep breath. “What’s on the other side or if you’re going to make it back.”_

_“Mom. You’ve been cooped up here way too long.”_

_Rachel smiled grimly, “Yeah I guess I have.” She sat down across from Charlie, leaning against the foot of the bed. “Here, it’s almost like I can forget that the world outside isn’t the world that I grew up in, that you were born in.”_

_Charlie wrinkled her nose, “What? With cars going a hundred miles an hour and plane crashes and everyone on their phones all the time?” She paused, “It’s not all that different, actually. More trees I think.”_

_“Do you like it?”_

_“Road trips?” Charlie shrugged, “I guess so. The blisters I could do without. And the food isn’t always the greatest, but it beats being cooped up all the time. Honestly, you have the better job this time.”_

_“No I mean… this world.”_

_Charlie frowned down at her hands and then looked back up at her mother. “Remember how I used to collect postcards of cities? Like with their skylines and stuff, the way they used to be?” Rachel nodded silently. “Well… I’ve walked to and from the Mexico border twice. I rode on a horse up to Niagara Falls and back. I’ve seen a lot of cities. And they aren’t the same as they were on those postcards, you know? I think you’d say that they were dead. No lights. No bustling crowds. No trains and heavy traffic. Some of them are downright quiet, still. People have left and instead of silver and chrome, everything is green and brown.”_

_Rachel whispered, “It sounds beautiful.”_

_“Both world had their own kind of beauty I suppose. But _this_ is the one we live in, the one that I know. And if it could all go back the way it was, if the lights went back on, it wouldn’t be the same as it was, you know?”_

_Rachel nodded, “I think so.”_

_Charlie stood up, “I know… you aren’t happy with my life choices right now.” Rachel snorted. “But the Republic is _mine_ , just as much as it is dad’s and Monroe’s. They made mistakes and hell, I’ll probably make some worse ones, but that’s just kinda what happens. It’s not like you haven’t made mistakes that changed the entire world.”_

_“Most kids… they make mistakes like get bad grades or fall in with a bad crowd and do drugs,” Rachel said from the floor, her head leaning back and to the side to look up at her daughter. “You aren’t supposed to have a country in your hands at the age of twenty-one.”_

_“You’ve always wanted me to be normal.”_

_“I’ve always wanted you to be _free_ , to make bad choices or good ones or whatever, but without lives being on the line because of them.”_

_Charlie considered her mother for a second and then looked out the window, her gaze seeking out the furthest point. “Before the Blackout, you were just a scientist and dad was just a soldier. And now you’re like… this mad scientist that can save the world and dad is a General in a Republic that he built. What part of any of that makes you think that I was _ever_ just going to sit back and be a normal kid who cares about bad grades, in this world or in yours?”_

_Rachel ran her fingers through her hair restlessly, “One where you are safe.”_

_“So go make me safe, mom. Stop Randall. Play the hero or whatever. And I’ll be here when you get back.” Charlie moved to the door, she was late for one last meeting with Miles and Bass before all the different players were sent to their locations._

_“I am proud of you,” Rachel said as Charlie walked away. “Even though you think I’m not.”_

_“So then trust me to do the right thing. Trust that _I am_ doing the right thing.”_

_Charlie walked out of her mother’s house and into the dim light of sunrise, and took a deep breath of the crisp morning air. Above, her mother watched her from the window of her room and waved goodbye. She never looked up and she never looked back._

_Rachel thought maybe there was a kind of strength in that, even if it hurt. And then she turned back to finish packing._

_It was time to save the world._


End file.
